


Discipline

by fengirl88



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 00:32:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/pseuds/fengirl88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whatever Charles has in mind now – as Erik's reward for winning the bet, or as his own revenge for Erik's teasing – it's put a <i>very</i> big smile on his face.</p><p> </p><p>sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/238921">Self-Control</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Discipline

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ginbitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginbitch/gifts).



> Written as a fill for the "teasing" square on my kink_bingo card; thanks to thimpressionist for betaing and cheerleading, and to cylin for a useful conversation about the problems of writing a sequel.
> 
> This one is for ginbitch, who persuaded me to watch the film in the first place - thank you very much!

“On your back,” Charles orders him. “Naked. Starting now.”

Erik's never seen anyone look so thoroughly debauched. Charles is naked and sweating and flushed, his chest and stomach streaked with his own come. His lips are red and swollen where he's been biting them in the struggle to control himself as Erik teased and tormented him. He'd lost their bet, finally, driven to use his powers on Erik when the desperate need for orgasm became more than he could stand. Whatever Charles has in mind now – as Erik's reward for winning the bet, or as his own revenge for Erik's teasing – it's put a _very_ big smile on his face. Bigger than when he realized Erik had decided to stay at the CIA facility after all; bigger even than the first time he'd used Cerebro.

The sight of that smile and the glint in Charles's eyes makes Erik's pulse beat faster. He can feel the heaviness of his own arousal, hot and hard and tightly wound all this time: Charles isn't the only one to have his endurance tested by the last hour. But he's not quite ready to strip yet. He lifts his hand to his mouth to clean the traces of Charles's orgasm from his fingers, looking sidelong at Charles as he puts out his tongue and licks. 

“Mmm,” he says, and feels the jolt of Charles's excitement in response. “Want to help?” Erik asks, grinning. He stretches out his hand to Charles, who takes it eagerly and raises it to his lips.

Charles's tongue pushes in between his fingers, draws sly circles on his palm, and Erik growls at the twist of pleasure it prompts inside him. The insinuating push of Charles's tongue, the wet heat of his mouth as he sucks on Erik's fingers, teasing and tugging, make Erik's already aching cock push and strain to be free of its confines.

“Oh, you _like_ that, don't you?” Charles says, sounding impossibly smug, even for him. He licks at Erik's wrist, tracing the vein with his tongue, and laughs at Erik's sharp intake of breath. “So are you going to get undressed now? Or do I have to make you?”

Erik growls again, and pulls his turtleneck over his head, dropping it on the pile of Charles's discarded clothes on the floor. He unbuckles his belt, unbuttons and unzips his trousers with fingers made clumsy with lust, too distracted to think of using his powers. He should have taken his shoes off first, and he can feel Charles's silent amusement as he wrestles his way out of his clothes.

Finally he's naked too, and Charles is staring at him with an expression so much like a small child let loose in a sweet-shop that Erik has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

“Oh,” Charles says. “Oh my goodness.”

“Like what you see?” Erik teases him.

Charles makes an incoherent noise and stretches out his hand as if he can't believe he's allowed to touch as well as look. He brushes his palm quickly, lightly, across the head of Erik's cock.

Erik grits his teeth at the excruciating pleasure of that fleeting touch. His hips jerk involuntarily as Charles pulls his hand away – _More_. He makes a grab for Charles's wrist, but Charles shakes his head.

“Not yet,” he says, grinning. “You have to wait a bit.”

That noise Erik just made absolutely _was not_ a groan.

“Oh come on,” Charles says. “Turnabout is fair play, wouldn't you say?” He closes his fingers around Erik's cock and strokes slowly from base to tip, then lets go again.

“Fuck fair play,” Erik mutters, making another unsuccessful grab at Charles's teasing fingers.

“Erik, I'm going to have to ask you to restrain yourself,” Charles says sternly.

The image of what he has in mind makes Erik swallow hard. He sees himself with the iron bars of the bedframe wrapped around his wrists, lying spread out and defenceless, waiting for Charles to do whatever he wants to him. 

“Kinky,” he says, trying to sound cool and unruffled. His mouth is dry with a mixture of apprehension and lust.

Charles laughs. “After what you did to me, I think that's a case of the pot calling the kettle black.”

He has a point there, Erik has to admit.

“So,” Charles says softly, and the heat in his gaze makes Erik's toes curl, “will you do that for me?”

Erik opens his mouth to say no, but what comes out is a croaked “OK”.

“Splendid,” Charles says. He leans in for a kiss, pulling at Erik's lower lip with his teeth and then slipping his tongue into Erik's mouth. 

Erik pushes his hands into Charles's hair, holding him close and pressing against him, prolonging the kiss till they're both panting.

“Ah,” Charles gasps, pulling away. “Too much, my friend. Put your hands up now, please.”

Erik's so dizzy with wanting that it takes a moment before he can bend the bars enough to twist them around his wrists.

“Good,” Charles says. “Oh, very good. Thank you, Erik.” The mixture of warm approval and downright gloating in his voice makes Erik feel as if all the blood in his body just rushed to his cock.

This shouldn't work, should it? Any sane person who's been through what Erik's been through surely wouldn't dream of submitting voluntarily to this kind of restraint, never mind getting off on it. But then maybe anyone who's been through what Erik has been through stops being quite sane. And if he's going to do something crazy, Charles Xavier is the person he wants to do it with. He's so certain of that it shakes him, makes him catch his breath again.

 _You know you can stop any time_ , Charles's voice says in his head. _Just say the word_.

It feels like a challenge, more than a reassurance.

“What word is that?” Erik says, forcing himself to breathe normally, or as close to normally as he can manage.

Charles grins and says “How about 'Check'?”

And that really _is_ unfair, because now every time they play chess he'll be reminded of this...

 _It cuts both ways_ , Charles's voice says in his head. _I'll be thinking of it too_. 

Erik has a sudden vision of the two of them playing match after match, knowing another game is being played out between them. He groans at the thought of it, feeling a renewed throb of arousal, his cock so heavy and full he's aching for Charles to touch him again. He thinks of all the times they've played, and realizes it was always there anyway, that other game underneath the visible one. The one where they both win, or both lose, he's not sure which.

If he had his hands free, he'd pull Charles's head down and kiss him till neither of them had any breath left. As it is... He arches up as far as he can, resisting the temptation to break or slip the bonds at his wrists, even though he can't get close enough to Charles this way and the frustration of that makes him curse.

Charles kisses him, a long, slow kiss that makes his head swim. Erik pushes his knees up to catch him round the waist and squeeze, wraps his legs around Charles's and rubs his cock against Charles's belly.

“Oh fuck,” Charles says fervently. “ _Wait_ , Erik –”

“Can't,” Erik says. “Too much –”

 _Check?_ Charles challenges him.

Well, if Charles puts it like that... Erik forces himself to lie still, letting go of Charles, though he wants nothing more than to rut against him till he comes, wants it so badly he can feel the ache of it in his bones and his teeth and the roots of his hair. But he's too stubborn to admit defeat. He'll take whatever Charles Xavier can dish out.

“Oh,” Charles says, flushing from his neck to the tips of his ears. “That – really is quite a thought. Are you sure, Erik?”

 _Try me_ , Erik sends him. He doesn't trust his voice not to crack if he says it out loud.

Charles makes an odd strangled sort of noise that somehow manages to be both funny and arousing. He takes a deep breath, sits back on his haunches and looks at Erik as if he can't decide where or how to touch him first.

Erik holds himself still and watches Charles watching him. Looking at him as if they've got all the time in the world. As if there are no limits but the ones they set themselves. He wonders how long Charles will make him wait. Wonders where he'll begin.

“Mm,” Charles says. “Oh yes, that's very nice.”

Erik gets a flash of how it feels in Charles's head – the thrumming tension of his uncertainty mixing with Charles's own anticipation, drawing the moment out till it vibrates between them, sending little shocks and sparks of pleasure along Charles's nerves. _Almost a shame to break the suspense_ , Charles jokes, and stretches out his hand to trace a line from behind Erik's ear to the hollow at the base of his throat.

Erik digs his heels into the mattress and concentrates on the shape and composition of the metal twined around his wrists.

Charles repeats the line he's just traced, this time with the point of his tongue. He licks deliberately at Erik's throat till Erik's writhing and swearing.

“Patience, Erik,” Charles says gleefully. He sucks at Erik's collarbone, hard enough that it'll leave a mark tomorrow. _Just as well you're so fond of turtlenecks, isn't it, my friend?_

“Hnngh,” Erik says. That was supposed to be words, but he seems to have lost them somewhere. The combination of Charles's mouth on him and his exhilaration at marking Erik is too much.

“Hnngh,” he says again, and Charles laughs, a sound of such uncomplicated delight that it's all Erik can do to keep from breaking his bonds and pinning him to the mattress.

“Uh-uh,” Charles says, shaking his head. “It's my turn now.”

He slides down and takes Erik's right nipple in his mouth, tugging at it and then scraping very gently with his teeth as Erik hisses. Charles's thumb and two fingers close around the left nipple, pulling and twisting till Erik _whines_ , damn it – and then Charles lets go of the right nipple and flicks his tongue against the left one, twice. Erik's hips jerk and he gives a sharp cry.

Charles sits back again, the bastard, looking like the cat who's just got the cream. “Lovely,” he says. “Even more sensitive than I'd hoped.”

The thought of Charles imagining that, fantasising about doing that to him, makes Erik dig his heels harder into the mattress, willing himself not to move.

Charles strokes his thumbs across Erik's lowest ribs and down to his waist. He presses a lingering kiss a few inches above Erik's navel. Erik breathes hard: he hadn't thought of that as a sensitive spot, but the open-mouthed kiss is hot and wet and intimate and filthy and _ohh_ –

He is _not_ going to give Charles the satisfaction of making him make that noise again.

 _You're irresistible like this_ , Charles says in his head. _I could watch you for hours._

Erik grits his teeth at the thought of hours like this – he's half-crazy with frustration already, but he's not going to give in, he isn't...

Charles takes the very tip of Erik's cock between his lips and sucks until Erik makes that noise again, the one he wasn't going to make. It's closely followed by a cry of frustration as Charles lets go with a parting flick of his tongue against the underside of Erik's cockhead. Pursing his lips, he exhales slowly and deliberately, a tease of warm breath across wet sensitive flesh.

Erik squirms, nearly pulling out of his metal bonds. His vision's starting to blur, but even without being able to see Charles's expression he can _feel_ Charles's triumph and pleasure in his undoing.

 _Ready to give in?_ Charles asks.

Erik shakes his head. _Never_.

 _Fighting talk, Erik_. 

Charles sounds amused, and so pleased he's almost purring with it. He moves down to the far end of the bed and runs one finger along Erik's left sole, laughing as Erik curses and jerks his foot away.

“I won't ask you to bind your ankles as well,” Charles says thoughtfully. “That might be cheating.”

He strokes Erik's right sole and presses his thumb into a spot that makes Erik moan loudly.

“Good to know you have – aah – some scruples,” Erik manages, as Charles continues to massage that spot. 

“Ha,” Charles says. “Pots and kettles again.”

He trails kisses from Erik's instep up to his knee and beyond, nuzzling and licking his inner thigh as he struggles to keep still. Charles pushes Erik's knees wide apart, holding him open and exposed and _oh_. Fuck.

“You –” Erik says, shaken and breathless at the soft wet heat of Charles's mouth enveloping each of his balls in turn.

“Mmm,” Charles says, the vibration of it making Erik shudder with pleasure.

“Please,” Erik says, startling himself as well as Charles. That's not a word he uses often, if at all.

 _What would you like?_ Charles teases him.

The images he projects to Erik are vividly, gloriously obscene: Charles fucking him with his tongue, holding his thighs wide apart as Erik gasps and twists; Charles impaling himself on Erik's cock, riding him triumphantly, head thrown back and teeth bared at the approach of orgasm, his own cock flushed dark and dripping with precome; Charles's fingers pushing into him, working him open, teasing and probing till Erik's begging _fuck me Charles please fuck me now I can't wait any longer_.

He's so hard it hurts, so close to coming he can almost taste it.

“Anything,” he says. “I don't care. I just – anything, please, Charles –”

 _Check?_ Charles asks him.

Erik swears loudly, feels the metal around his wrists twisting and warping. _Fuck it, Charles_ –

“I don't remember _you_ letting _me_ off,” Charles says. He runs his tongue lightly along Erik's straining cock. “Quite the reverse, in fact.” He circles the glans with his tongue, teasing at the bundle of nerves just under the head.

Erik clenches his fists, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. 

_Such a beautiful cock_ , Charles says in his mind, sounding lazily content. _I don't think I'll ever get tired of playing with it, just like this._ He presses the tip of his tongue against the slit and Erik fucking well _whimpers_.

 _How long did you make me wait?_ Charles asks. _I bet you can hold out longer than that. The question is, how long?_

Every cell in Erik's body is yelling at him to give in, but he can't.

 _So stubborn_ , Charles tells him, and it feels like a caress. _Oh, you want to get off, so badly, but you can't let go, can you?_

He rubs his thumb across the head of Erik's cock, then strokes Erik's lips and says “Taste yourself, how close you are.”

Erik sucks Charles's thumb into his mouth, caressing it with his lips and tongue.

“Mmm,” Charles says appreciatively. He pulls out his thumb with a soft pop and rubs a wet line with it from Erik's perineum to his anus. Then he slides down and takes Erik's cock in his mouth, not teasing now but licking and sucking intently, groaning with lust as he takes Erik deeper. He grips Erik's buttocks bruisingly tight, pulling him closer till his cock is hitting the back of Charles's throat – _all of you yes I want you deep as you can go, Erik, give it to me_ –

Erik can't remember the word he needs to say, or any word but Charles's name. He's coming, can't help himself, no chance to warn Charles and no chance of holding back now even if he wanted to. The colours behind his eyes explode into white light and he feels the surge of his makeshift restraints coming apart, still twisted around his wrists but severed now from the bedframe. The orgasm sweeps from the base of his spine to his scalp and all the way to his fingertips and the soles of his feet, wave after wave till he's nothing but the pulse and the echo of it, hollowed out, shaken and lost.

“Oh,” Charles says, coming up for air. “ _Oh_. Aah.”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and presses his cheek against Erik's stomach, nuzzling and stroking Erik's softening cock. Erik shivers and twitches, groaning a little at the touch.

“Next time,” Charles says ruefully. “Next time I swear I'm going to make you say it.”

Erik can't pretend he really won this round. “I forgot,” he says. “I forgot the fucking word, Charles.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Charles says. He starts to laugh, and Erik joins in, light-headed with relief and endorphins.

“I think you melted something in my brain,” Erik complains, freeing himself from his ruined shackles and rolling over to pin Charles to the bed.

“You started it,” Charles says, “you and your bets.” His cock's more than half-hard again, pushing against Erik's thigh.

“Looking for a rematch?” Erik teases.

“Absolutely,” Charles says, pressing against him and nuzzling his neck.

“Charles? _Charles!_ Where are you? Dinner's ready!” 

Raven's voice in the corridor again, and this time Hank's with her: “I'm sure he was with Mr Lehnsherr. Did you knock?”

“Rematch postponed,” Erik says under his breath. He fondles Charles's hardening cock and laughs silently as Charles arches up into his touch. 

Dinner should be... interesting.

Charles pushes his thigh between Erik's and grinds against him in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

“I hope you're hungry,” he murmurs in Erik's ear. “I've got plans for you later and you're going to need all your strength.”

Erik can hardly wait.


End file.
